Sirius Trouble
by Thaliae
Summary: UPDATED CHAPTER V What happens when your favourite author kills off your favourite character. This attempt to revive him, obviously. For the comedic value only, no misplaced sentimentality here.
1. Chapter I

SIRIUS TROUBLE 

**Chapter One, this being the epic part**.

It had been nearly two heart-wrenching months since his godfather died and Harry still couldn't sleep. The second he closed his eyes he had to relive one of the most painful times in his life. Without Sirius, Harry had no one. He knew that the Weasleys loved him like a son, and that the Order of the Phoenix would never abandon him, but it wasn't the same. 

Even with Sirius on the run, Cedric dead and Voldemort returned, Harry had always held a secret desire that he would one day wake up to a Voldie free world and a new life with his godfather. That would never happen now, and stomach twisting at the thought, Harry focused his mind, his pain and all his hatred onto the man he held responsible – Severus Snape. Snape was Harry's potions master at school and had always treated Harry badly (that he treated everyone except the Slytherin's badly didn't occur to Harry at this point).  As the adage went, like father like son, and Harry was proof of that. Snape had hated James Potter at school, and Harry was an unpleasant reminder to the potions master of his less than happy school days.

Harry never wanted anything to do with Snape again, unfortunately, since he was staying at the headquarters of the Order and Snape was a member, this wasn't very likely, so Harry had to content himself with ignoring the man, and refusing to drink a dreamless sleep potion, even with Mrs Weasley fretting anxiously in the background. 

*********

The two months since the climatic battle at the Ministry of Magic hadn't exactly been fun for anyone, but there was one person who was feeling even less cheerful than Harry – Sirius Black. Dying was the last in a long line of crappy things to happen to him. Being framed as a traitor responsible for the death of your best friend, an inept wizard (the real traitor) and many innocent bystanders, spending twelve years in wizard prison, watching the treacherous Pettigrew get away and having to go into hiding was one thing, well a set of things. 

But death? What an anticlimax. 

Black had always harboured a certain fondness towards the Norse pantheon, and when his time came was looking forward to shield maidens and an excess of quaffing. What he got was – nothing. Almost as if he had never died, except for the lack of body, which, when you get down to it is kind of crucial to most things.

Sirius Black was not one to take things lying down. He'd get his body back or die trying. Or something. //First things first// thought Black //Where's the nearest ladies locker room…//

*********

Once the novelty of being invisible and incorporeal had worn off (which for a man of Sirius's imagination took a while) the serious business of what to do next hit him. Dumbledore was the next obvious port of call, so Sirius set off towards the place he'd spent all summer trying to escape- 12 Grimauld Place. 

Protected by powerful wards, the house was inaccessible to everyone who didn't belong there, but there was no objection from the house as Sirius entered. After all, it did belong to him. Nevertheless, he had felt a little worried as he stood outside that the house wouldn't recognise him dead or Dumbledore had enchanted it to let only the living in.

Once inside, Sirius faced his next problem. He strode purposefully up the hall, into the kitchen and plonked himself at the table next to Remus Lupin who was pouring over a map of Hogsmeade. Mischievously, Sirius lent over and yelled in his old friend's ear "POMEGRANATES". The fruit had been a long-standing joke between the school friends and usually caused Lupin to double up in hysterical laughter. On this occasion however, nothing happened. "Moony, are you deaf?" "Moony this is not funny – I'm not dead. Well, I'm still here. I need to talk to you" his confidence swiftly fading Sirius whispered "Moony…"

He watched in despair as the kitchen door creaked open and Lupin lifted his head out of the shadows. The man that greeted Molly Weasley looked twice the age Sirius knew him to be. Things went from bad to worse. The chaotic breakfast routine he'd come to know so well last year was muted, and even when a clatter in the hall woke the portrait of Mrs Black, her screaming seemed a little empty. But what broke his heart was the other thing that had brought him back to this place – Harry. 

No longer making any pretence at a good night's sleep and looking almost as dishevelled as Sirius did at their first meeting, the changes in Harry were obvious. Never the loudest of children, Harry no longer spoke unless he had to, and his eyes had taken on a dull pained look. Sirius reached out to touch him and screamed in frustration as his hand groped in nothing but thin air (A/N no this is not a Sirius slash Harry fic you little sickos ;-)). 

Ron, ever receptive to Harry's mood was next to arrive, sitting in companiable silence as ate. He had unfortunately chosen the seat that Sirius was currently occupying. If being walked through by a ghost was unpleasant for the person, it was nothing to how Sirius felt right now. He could see everything from the inside. Ron's heartbeat was like thunder and the blood was a whirling vortex. 

//Don't look down// he silently willed // just get up and walk right through him// He was trapped //for the love of all things sacred Ron get a bloody move on…// There was no way out. Stuck inside the body of a hormonal teenage ginger git was more than Sirius could bear, and was remarkably close to the way Boggarts appeared to him. 

Panic welled up in him and he struggled to pull himself together. // Could be worse// the inevitable Gryfindor optimism rose in him //at least he isn't thinking about sex//. All of a sudden, Ron's heart rate rose, and signs that were all to familiar to the wizard formally known as Sirius began to appear. 

// Holy guacamole – I can influence his thoughts!! Or, maybe he's just a boy… I have to stop this... Um, herbology, cold showers, Severus Snape naked on a cold day. Herbology, cold showers, SEVERUS SNAPE NAKED ON A COLD DAY//. To his relief, Ron's heart rate slowed, but Sirius felt a twinge of guilt. He had now forever imprinted the image of naked Snape into the poor boy's mind and associated it with sex. His resolve hardened (if you'll pardon the expression). He had to get his body back so he could pay for the counselling Ron would need.

"I'm not feeling very well," croaked Ron "I think I'll go and have a shower…" he left, muttering what sounded very much like "unclean, unclean" to Harry. To his delight, and Ron's ultimate relief, Sirius remained in the chair. He could be trapped by the magic in a witch or wizard's body, bound to them for a short time, but it appeared there were no lasting connections forged with Ron. For the first time in his life Sirius was glad that James was dead. The bond shared between James and Sirius was so great that he was sure the linkage could not have broken, and that would have lead to all sorts of embarrassment. The pair of friends had shared almost everything, but there were some things in this world that nobody should do, and sleeping with your best friend's wife is one of them. Especially when he's there too.

**********

What he needed, Sirius soon realised was a body he could inhabit, whose previous occupant he didn't greatly care for.  Someone who was well placed within the world he desired to be in – someone at Hogwarts, someone in the Order, and preferably someone who had the slightest bit of control over their own hormones.  The being at Hogwarts and the Order headquarters narrowed it down quite a bit and he began to mull over his choices, as Harry moped on in silence next to him. 

There was Remus, who was returning to Hogwarts this year, come what may, even though they already had a DADA teacher.  He was sure Dumbledore would find him something useful to do, even if it only was growling at Mrs Norris one night a month.  But Remus didn't entirely fit into the someone whose life I wouldn't mind screwing up category.  Then there was Dumbledore, but that idea was soon scrapped on the grounds that he was sure he couldn't relate such clichés and inanities as Dumbledore was known to favour without cracking up entirely.  It would be like the pomegranate issue all over again, and there was now way he was getting himself back into that state.  For a moment he thought he had it with McGonagall – she was a Gryffindor, and had been like a second mother to him when his had turned out to be so blatantly lacking – well, everything.  Surely she would welcome him back, gladly share her body with him to give him a second chance after all he had suffered (down boy! Not going there either.  Uggh wrinkles.)  But then it hit him like a stone – periods.  He's seen Moony when he knew he only had to suffer one night a month, and that train of thought was rapidly abandoned.  His thoughts flowed on in this incoherent and whimsical fashion for a good while longer until he was getting to the end of his remarkable short list, given all the caveats he put on it.

But wait – SNAPE!  That was the answer – he was a bastard and the thought of getting him to do ridiculous things – the kind that were never forgotten by your associates and brought up routinely at inappropriate moments – was totally appealing.  Furthermore he was generally awful to Harry (and all the Gryffindors, except Hermione Granger since she'd died her hair black and taken to wearing pink hoodies, and talking about big ships.  For some reason he felt this was a vast improvement.  But then there's just something about black hair) so getting him to be a bit nicer to them could only represent an improvement.  That settled it, he decided, getting up from his chair and abandoning Harry in his quest for mischief and a willing body (oh, we're back to this aren't we?)

*********

Snape wasn't all that hard to find.  Considering he had no social life, no pastimes and no friends to visit, he was either at the Order headquarters or Hogwarts for most of his time.  Such was Sirius' reasoning, and hence it was in Snape's dungeon lair that we now find a somewhat incorporeal Sirius Black and a certain Mr Snape, revelling in even lower standards of personal hygiene now that the holidays had come, the castle was mostly empty and no-one could smell him. Yes he is a big minger. No his hair isn't just silky. It's grease, pure and simple.  Having found his resolve to possess the body of his worst enemy (excepting possibly the person who told him the conclusion to Matrix: Revolutions, but that's another story entirely), Sirius found himself strangely reluctant to get on with it.  Which is possibly why this narrative is going on quite so long as it is.

Get on with it! I hear you cry? Oh well, fine then.  But no pomegranates for your rudeness.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius placed himself in the path of Snape's rather uncertain gait, since Snape had just been enjoying rather more fire whisky than was good for him, and waited for doom to come to him.  Quite literally.  And not just any kind of doom, but DOOM in a Hugo Weaving - Elrond kind of way.

In hindsight, the fact that Snape was quite as drunk – nay inebriated – as he was, was probably the only saving grace in this foolish plan for Sirius, as it was the reason that Snape's occulementic barriers didn't shred his feeble mind like a….  Don't mock me; midnight growlers can't similize at will.

Snape's body covered Sirius, pressing against him, and then, almost as if by magic they became one (fine then, it was magic, but that's nowhere near as good an innuendo) until Sirius was pressing deep into the hot tightness that was Snape's body, Snape being somewhat skinnier that Sirius had become in his non-corporeal existence.  [A/N: stop salivating now, that's all you're going to get.  Not least because NEITHER OF THEM IS GAY!]  Slowly, carefully, sneakily, slyly and in fact with all the skill, tact and subtlety of a baby rhinoceros, Sirius edged his way into Snape's mind, and their two spirits and beings became one in that moment.  [Okay, really done now]

This feeling was much more than Sirius had experienced when he was inside Ron – there he had been totally detached, aware they were sharing the same space, but also that it was a transient thing.  With Snape it was different, maybe because of his desire to control him, or maybe just because Snape was weak-willed, desperate and lonely under his sneering and offensive exterior.  Whatever it was – Sirius had now achieved his first goal – he had a body, and he wasn't afraid to use it.   And at this point in the epic chapter one, that being the first part of the shameless parody, that being the first part of an even longer and even more shameless set of parodies, Sirius felt compelled to shout:

Victory is mine! 

_Victory is mine!_

_I drink from the Keg of Glory!_

_Victory is mine!_

_Bring me the finest muffins and bagels in all the land!_

The words came unbidden, half remembered from some forgotten time or place, but fortunately for the reader, he felt no urge to branch into Elfish or to sing.

When this small scene of jubilation had passed, Sirius took a moment to sit down and think about what he was going to do no he had achieved his quest.  The previous possibilities of passing through walls, sneaking and spying on unclothed females were now lost to him, and he found himself in something of a quandary.  The first thing he wanted to do was speak to Harry, and tell him he was alright.  

However this presented several problems, not least of which that Harry refused to speak with Snape, holding him solely responsible for driving them to the Ministry of Magic on the back of a thestral of all things, instead of providing guidance. Because that wouldn't have looked at all suss, Harry and Snape talking privately, or even just talking.  Rationally, Sirius could see that (even though the train of events had lead to his own death, and he really hated Snape anyway) that this was not entirely logical on Harry's part, but then Harry had never been logical.  Or all that bright.

Whoa! Where did that come from Sirius wondered?  //from me you imbecile// came Snape's reply //after all, you're in my body//.  Feeling slightly better and validated in still being the loving godfather, Sirius relaxed somewhat perplexed by the new turn of events.

//You've never been that bright either.  Now get out of my body.//

"Or what?" spoke Sirius aloud feeling some what cracked for speaking to himself.  Even though he wasn't and no one could see him. "You'll repeatedly beat yourself around the head?"

//I will taunt you mercilessly.  In an *outrageous* French accent.//

"Huh?"

//oh really – are you so uneducated?  'Your mother was an hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.'  Any of this firing any neurones in your miniscule size brain?//

"Hey don't comment on size; a hamster couldn't make anywhere near as much noise as my mother does; what's wrong with elderberries, and again, huh?"

//Now I've got the feel of all your attributes (so to speak), I'll comment as I like.  And if you can't figure it out for yourself, tough.  I'll have you know I once ran a film society for Muggle films in this school.  They were somewhat lacking, but then mindless trash never hurt anyone.//

"Get lost!"

//Mature.  Gladly, just as soon as you get out of my head// Severus slurred back.

"Not a chance, Sevikkins, you may have notice that only you get drunk, not me."  Which said, Sirius sat back and proceeded to empty the bottle of old Ogden's and eventually fell asleep in his newfound symbiotic state.

********

When Sirius/Snape (a/n still not going there, but what else do we call them?) awoke his head was pounding with a dull ache and he felt, all told, more than a little nauseous.  Standing up and fumbling along various shelves of neatly labelled potion bottles he finally located the desired 'hangover potion'.  Unclasping the vial, he downed the contents in one.  It was only as the dull pounding increased and his stomach roiled that he realised that it was the anti-hangover potion that was needed.  He had a feeling that Snape had let him walk right into that one for the kicks.  Which just proved that he was a masochist as well as a git.

After a few minutes, his vision finally returned and he managed to locate, uncap and drink the correct bottle with trembling hands.  Recovery soon followed, and with it the realisation that he needed to urinate.  Which as you can imagine, or many people try not to at all costs, raises some issues to do with a naked Snape that should never have been raised.

And believe me, though the words 'and some things were lost to the minds of men, for none now live that remember them' tend to conjure up images of doom, gloom and hairy feet, in this case they're just a blessing.  Not in disguise, a total blessing to HP purists, and a curse to Alan Rickman fans.

************************

Two hours later it was getting impossibly painful. Sirius was gratified to find that Severus shared the sensations he was feeling, as he was less likely to hit himself upside the head. The pain. 

//OH just get ON with it// Snape screamed internally. //You'll ruin my kidneys you evil sadistic nutcase//. 

Biting back the throbbing, Sirius replied "There is no way on this or any other Earth or reality that that is ever going to happen. No way. Azkaban was one thing, but that is quite another."

//We could try the library, I seem to recall a book in the Restricted Section called "101 Magical Ways to Take a Leak Without Looking"//

"Really??" asked Sirius hopefully. 

//No not really you cretinous oaf. Nobody in the magical world is that unhinged// 

"You never met any of my family did you?" 

//True, and hell, I can't talk, my Dad liked Barry Manilow// 

"That's a tough break man" Sirius sympathised, then Sirius/Severus flinched. Their mutual distress had caused the unthinkable. They were sharing. Almost bonding. 

//You could let me have my eyes back… just for the duration… then I'll have a foothold and soon my body will be mine MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA//

"Um, Severus, I heard that. Your inner monologue is my inner monologue. Sharing body remember" 

//Crap//  later.  //Eureka!! They don't call me an evil genius for nothing. We could just sit down// 

"Alright. But I'm not happy about this" 

Gingerly they made for the bathroom. Five minutes later, any observer would have seen a pale faced but thoroughly relieved potions master emerge from his private bathroom. 

//We have to do something about that. To the library!!// Snape gestured. 

"You. Are. So. Weird. This has been the worse day of my… whatever. Come on. The sooner we get there the sooner we can leave."

Three hours later Sirius was banging Snape's head against the table. //Stop it. You're causing a scene// 

"I'm not going to stop until we pass out or leave." /

/Fine. The potion to turn all our bodily waste to vapour (odourless and colourless) that can just diffuse away will take 2 days to mature anyway, so we should get going// 

"Two days! But I can't wait that long" 

//Well, to be honest, most of it's for show. Gimme twenty minutes and I can knock something up. Two heads are better than one and all that//

Potion brewed and problem solved, the holidays loomed ahead of them and therein lay a problem. They had nothing in common. Severus's desire to do something quiet and soothing was as dull as ditchwater to Sirius, and Sirius's love of Muggle technology, Quidditch and loud explosions was making Severus suicidal. An uneasy peace lasted for 48 hours and then…

//I'm *****so***** bored. Entertain me with the sparkling personality your house is famed for//

"OK - What's the difference between a Slytherin and a pomegranate?

One's a diabolically cunning, scheming, manipulative, arrogant, self centred, sadistic social climbing bastard, and the other's a harmless fruit"

*Pause*

//And this is Gryfindor wit? I unclog my nostrils at you and call your joke telling ability a silly thing//

"From the house that's supposed to practice the Dark Art of satire you aren't very good"

//I can't help it if you are badly educated in the world of Muggle films and my humour is above you.//

*Pregnant pause*

"Bored now too"

//Right, well we could relocate to somewhere less magical and watch some dvds//

"What's a dvd?"

//Your ignorance astounds me sometimes. Let's go//

*********

Three days and several tonnes of popcorn later we find our, well for want of a better word, hero? heroes? in Snape's modest gite in the South of France. Tears of appreciation welling in their eyes, Sirius turned to his cohabitant and sobbed, "I've wasted so much of my life. Why did no one tell me of these moving pictures?? Why??" //There there, we still have a week of holidays left, that's enough time for most of the important films//  "What's next?? //There's this crazy film I have a feeling you'll just *love*//

********

"Multipass!!"

//What have I done…//

*********

"Demi Moore?!" //She's playing an evil dark haired minx. And don't even pretend you didn't love the fur coat high heels bikini combo. Your body is my body, I can read the signs// "Alright, I'll give you that, dark haired girls can be hot, but for casual shags, it has to be a blonde. Mmmm Cameron Diaz" //Oh please…//

********

They collapsed on day five, lack of sleep and a ridiculously low energy intake finally catching up with them. Apparently, popcorn can't sustain a grown man for all that long. 

An unpleasantly short time later they awoke to a fierce burning in their left forearm. "OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW. What the hell's going on" 

//Don't be such a big wuss. We're being summoned// 

"Now?? Want go to sleep now" 

//It will get worse. We have to go// 

"Bugger that for a game of soldiers." 

//My sentiments exactly.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.  It's the last time I trust a half-price tattooist//

********

A quick cleansing charm and rejuvenation potion later (Sirius refusing to leave until they were almost presentable), they arrived at chateau Malfoy. The location of Dark Revels (not the coffee ones [A/N: I Happen to like the coffee ones, but my other half was in charge for this bit], which are truly evil, just a Death Eater meeting) alternated between the Malfoy home and the Jesus Lane Pizza Express in Cambridge.  Narcissa Malfoy might be an excellent hostess, but even Death Eaters need to relax sometimes, and quite frankly, given the clientele of the restaurant, a few slightly odd but distinguished looking men would fit right in. 

Walking towards the imposing gothic gates, a thought hit Snape //Sirius?? // Sharing bodies has the remarkable effect of getting even enemies onto first name terms fairly quickly //I need to be in charge when we go in there. I am needed as a spy, and I'm pretty sure you don't want to die again, so please take a back seat. As soon as Voldemort is gone, I promise I won't attempt to override you for a whole hour// 

Since this not only made sense to Sirius, who was going to suggest it anyway, but he got free reign for an hour, the Gryfindor, his thoughts tuned to rather a Slytherin frequency grinned his assent. He then realised Severus couldn't see this so offered a rather lame "yes".

As they entered the Malfoy house, Snape abandoned the odd somewhat bow-legged shuffling motion which Sirius called walking, and began his characteristic purposeful and really rather elegant strides. Not everything a person does can be physically repulsive, and dammit that man can walk. 

The doors magically opened before him, and head held high he swept into the room. He nodded his acknowledgement of the quiet and very very very respectful bows from the other Death Eaters. "Now that we're all here" Malfoy shot a loaded glance at Snape who had always been Voldemort's favourite Death Eater "Let us begin…" 

REFERENCES:

Austin Powers International Man of Mystery Mr Terry Pratchett (probably) Robert Rankin (most definitely) Lord of the Rings Josh, the West Wing Muggle Film Fanatics Society by Veresna Ussep Monty Python and the Holy Grail The Fifth Element Charlie's Angels Two 


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II, this being the second part**.

_"You call that a Dark Revel? I've seen more debauchery in a library" _Sirius Black was disappointed, despite himself. He had been almost looking forward to the meeting. Dark Revels had forever been associated in Sirius's mind with, well, darkness, revelling and, midgets. And the coffee Revels of course  Port, gossip and a swift fag were definitely not, in Sirius's opinion worthy of the ominous title. (Although Lucius Malfoy's cry of objection at the mention of fags in his household did make up for it).

Voldemort had only stayed long enough to stroke a few egos and damage a few minions, and had left muttering something that sounded remarkably like "you just can't get the staff these days". His point had been proved, when the nearest Death Eater had replied "But you've got a staff sir, you're leaning on it". This comment was followed by a green flash of light. The Dark Lord does not suffer fools or bad puns gladly. (A/N: so basically we're screwed. The Gryfindor next door will do something incredibly stupid and the walls here are thin…)

"Severus, can I have a word?" "Certainly, Lucius, I rather like insouciance myself. Aha aha". Silently cursing, Sirius realised too late that a textbook Snape reply was much more sarcastic than that. 

"Are you feeling alright? I need to talk to you privately." 

A private discussion with Lucius Malfoy was on both Sirius and Severus's things to be avoided at all costs list, especially when Sirius had claimed his control, but neither of them could think of a way out of this one. Resigned to their fate, they followed him out of the great hall and up the stairs

 //Oh No. No. This can't be happening// 

_"What? Severus, what's wrong?"_ asked Sirius internally 

//All the rooms upstairs are bedrooms// a panicked reply came. //He might try and jump us//. 

As Lucius closed a heavy door behind them, and magically sealed it shut, Sirius was inclined to agree with him. Then Lucius sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the space next to him. They gingerly sat down and determined to get this over with; they asked, "What did you want to talk about Lucius?" 

This was obviously the opportunity Lucius Malfoy had been born to exploit. He talked and talked, a torrent of unimportant drivel, and suddenly blurted out "Can you help me programme the clock on my video?" 

//It's just an excuse to get us to bend over. He's sick// _"Shut up and help me. I can't do this alone"_

Sirius was not only a complete wuss, but also terrible with DIY and programming electrical equipment. He had a bow legged walk too. In the interest of fairness, he was still a hell of a lot cuter than Snape, and as witnessed by the fact he had friends, outside interests that didn't involve evil wizards, and in fact a life, his personality was pretty wonderful. 

As time progressed it became more and more obvious that whatever his motives for enticing them to his bedroom, which they still weren't convinced had much to do with VCRs, Lucius Malfoy was not intending to try anything funny. Job done, Severus's general malaise gave way to blackest depression. 

//Am I that unattractive? Even Malfoy the infamous nympho isn't trying anything on. I'm doomed to a life alone and unloved. Take my body. I don't want it any more// 

_"Severus, you have to work with what's given to you. Admittedly, you aren't the hottest chilli on the plant, but it's all about attitude. Look at James, he was a scruffy little nerf herder and still bagged the cutest girl in the school." _

//You're just trying to cheer me up. I can accept my lonely fate, but please don't make it worse with your platitudes// 

_"Oh get a grip. Look I'll show you"._

He slid off the floor and whispered to himself _"Cameron Diaz in Charlie's Angels Two"_. A predatory look appeared in his eyes and he purred seductively "Lucius, come over here." 

Not the most inventive of chat up lines, but you know, Gryffindor. When Malfoy was suitably close, Sirius lent in closer and whispered, "Now I've pushed your buttons, want to push mine?" 

A puzzled look appeared on Malfoy's face as Snape lent in, kissed him hard on the mouth and quickly pulled away. "Severus??…" 

"Sorry Lucius, but I've always had a thing for blonde hair, and yours is particularly beautiful," said Sirius, stoking the famous Malfoy mane and inwardly grimacing. 

//What the hell are you doing??// _"Proving a point, besides, we don't want to piss him off any more than I just did"_ // I don't think he's angry…// _"What? I just stuck your tongue down his throat!"_

However, Severus was proved correct, as, while they were bickering internally, Lucius had begun to smile, and pulled Snape into a passionate embrace. As they frantically searched for an escape plan that didn't involve their grisly death, an arrogant voice called "Alohamora" and the door creaked open. 

"Dad, have you talked to Professor Snape about that potions book yet? Dad?" Then Draco's eyes flicked down and saw something he would never forget. 

His father. And Snape. Together. Snape was looking distinctly green and panic stricken, but his father was obviously enjoying himself (VERY obviously). 

"DAD!!" Draco screamed, and this time, Lucius heard him. "Draco… I can explain… listen" 

"How could you do this to me?" Draco stormed off possibly to find some spoons with which to gouge out his eyes, with his father rushing behind offering bribes, platitudes and apologies in that order. 

Snape took the opportunity to get up off the floor, walk down the stairs, gracefully glide out of the door, and when he was out of sight, run like hell towards the nearest place he could apparate from.

"I think we're going to be sick." // Malfoy, eh? Who would have thought it?// "You're sounding unnaturally buoyant considering our narrow escape". //Put it this way, I don't think we'll ever have a private chat with Malfoy again. He's so dull it was almost worth it. That said, I think we're going to need a very very long shower when we get back//

"Took the words right out of your mouth, my friend." It was a sign of how much they had changed that neither of them thought about the implications of Sirius's throwaway comment. As in the naked Snape ones.

*********

As it turned out, it was surprisingly easy to undress and put on a bathrobe with one's eyes shut.  The shower water was now running and Sirius/Severus was hovering on the edge. (So to speak).  It had just dawned on him that the sitting down, not looking around method was not going to work here.  There would have to be touching and washing, and possibly being sick at some point.  However there is a problem with hovering in bathrooms – namely that one's feet get rather cold on the tiled floor, and as already established, Sirius was a wuss.

But never let it be said that whilst being a Gryffindor rarity, a big girl's blouse, he was not inventive.  Strange thoughts were drifting into his mind as to just how loyal house-elves were, and just how far they could be pushed before breaking.  Which was a sign of just how being with a Slytherin for just shy of a week can seriously alter your perspective on things.

"Hey Severus, how d'you summon a house elf?"

//you shout 'Oi! By the power of the prettiest elf in the fellowship, Legolas Greenleaf, being the only elf that's not saying much, get here now!'//

"I have to shout all that?"

//no, just ring the bell.//

Which is exactly what Sirius proceeded to do.  And is how a poor unfortunate elf by the name of Sappy ended up standing in the shower scrubbing Severus' body down with industrial strength shower gel and an oddly shaped loofah.  And, to spare you all, and really myself the ordeal, we'll just say that the shower proceeded without too much incident, moans, or squeals.  From anyone. Except, I expect, you the reader. And if not, why not?

Sirius (still with eyes shut, and a vague awareness that at some point he was going to have to get over this) wrapped himself up again and left the room, allowing Severus to issue a curt command to turn the shower off and tidy up the room to the elf.  Which, in hindsight was the start of the problem.

The elf, poor Sappy, being after all a bit of a sap, was exhausted by his ordeal, spiritually, ecumenically and grammatically, and had no more energy left to do anything but collapse into the shower tray.  This tardiness in itself being not such a problem, except when you are a small and furry elf, and the vortex of the draining water drags you over the plughole and holds you there by the power of suction.  Which is how a trapped elf can flood a dungeon room.  And also a way to have Snape outside in just a bathrobe and a foul temper.  (A/n: no really, this did happen, but in Germany with a cat, and the flat was on the 7th floor, so there was much, much flooding.  Heard it on Jonathan Ross.)

*******

But all this silliness being said and done, it proves that you can only drag a shower scene out for so long and remain sane.  After the event that shall henceforth be known as 'the day Snape flooded the dungeons, ended up outside, and the hordes of admirers discovered that through a damp night shirt he looks nothing like Alan Rickman at all' a relative calm descended on the castle, as the rest of the staff that had lives, friends, travel plans and outside interests, returned and began preparing for the new term. 

 It was noticed in staff meetings that Severus was somewhat less argumentative than normal – people cited the fact that there had been no inkling that he was even thinking about recreating the epic battle that had been fought in the staff room in 1991, when it was suggested that Severus showed an undue amount of disappointment at not getting Potter in his house.  Apparently many years of planned orphan ridiculing had just gone to waste – there was no way he was going to get all those insults into 5 years of potions lessons.  Because everyone knew that Harry was as dull as ditch water and not likely to get an Outstanding-Level OWL at potions.  Or anything else really.  Which was the comment that sent the first curse flying and a chain of events in motion that ultimately led to every piece of comfortable furniture in the staff room being combusted or flattened.  Dumbledore, becoming a bit of a sadist in his old age, replaced them all with high backed wooden chairs and then had resorted to employing Remus to growl at anyone who fidgeted overly.  He tried to pretend it was because he felt sorry for the werewolf, but we all know it was because he was an old grump when the kids weren't around.

********

But back to my story. Well, not quite. Back in fact, to the distant past of 1991, when men were men and Snape was younger. (Sirius of course had a very fine body of his own at this point with hair Snape would have been proud of. That he was in Azkaban goes without saying. Well it didn't cos I just said it…) Anyway, said quip was delivered by Snape (i.e. Potter and ditchwater), and the first shot was fired (according to Snape) by McGonagall, and according to McGonagall, by the pot plant in the corner, that went by the name Fred, (but no-one really believed her, as Gryffindors are typically bad liars). 

As the battle raged on, the curses became more and more petty and vindictive, with Professor Trelawney getting caught in the cross fire of a particularly nasty "parle obscurus" curse of Snape's from which she never fully recovered. 

Being thus hit she retaliated "a plague on both your houses!" Snape cried "Haha! I only have one." This fly away curse goes a long way towards explaining exactly why nobody liked Slytherins, and the unusually high incidence of embarrassing and unexplained rashes among them or they could all be dirty little buggers. "I can wait Severus Snape… Mwahahahaha. Beware rich blondes and tall dark strangers." 

"Great. That leaves me with a Weasley. I'll take my chances with the blonde if you don't mind Sybil" Which, given the events chez Malfoy was probably the worst thing he could have said.

An uneasy truce was formed to allow the casualties to leave the field. Eventually only Snape and McGonagall remained, she because of her Gryffindor pride, and he because he was a sneaky underhanded cad who was well aware of the age disparity between them. She would tire before him. It took the intervention of Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch cunningly diverting Peeves into the fray to allow both thoroughly cream crackered teachers to give up on fighting each other and fling hexes at the malevolent poltergeist.   

******

Enough reminiscing. We will now return to the present. You may feel a slight discomfort, however, as the puns will only get worse… Literally tens of voices cry out in horror and are suddenly silenced by the realisation that it is entirely their own fault for reading the rambling of one or possibly two deranged students with far too much time on their hands (Sorry to the taxpayers, we promise to repay my debt to society one day.)

*******

Severus found that although staff meetings were dull, it was infinitely better when you have an inner monologue capable of conversation on its own. Maybe hearing things wasn't as bad as it was cracked up to be. He decided to put off admitting himself to St Mungo's until Dumbledore made a truly distasteful request (A/N: not going there despite own voices pressing hard for innuendo. Lalalala not listening.) He knew that it was impossible for a dead man to talk to him, and even if Black did return, he wasn't exactly going to be top of Sirius's bodies to possess list. That honour, he was almost certain would go to someone very blonde, very rich and very dirty. Malfoy in fact. That thought caused Snape to grimace and surreptitiously cast a teeth cleaning spell. 

Several members of staff noticed Snape's displeasure and hastily increased their personal defensive spells to their highest level. They wouldn't forget 1991 in a hurry, and Quirrel being evil had very little to do with it. Dumbledore, whilst not missing the change in mood, carried on talking about grades of toilet rolls and whether prefects deserved Aloe Vera Andrex or should slum it with Aldi's Own, like the rest of the school. 

Teachers, of course used exceptionally poor essays, or, when a class was particularly bright, the Hufflepuff badger (Sprout as head of Hufflepuff remained unaware of this as she used a compost heap as her toilet of choice, and had long thought the Hufflepuff badger deceased.) (A/N: Don't tell me you thought they kept those old essays that students agonised over. In fact, one year when there was a nasty outbreak of gastroenteritis, many of the essays didn't even get marked, and the grades received depended on the softness of their parchment rather than the quality of their writing. This explains Hermoine's one and only D in potions. She was dreadfully upset. Swotty bint.) 

Having voted unanimously to force the prefects to slum it like the rest of the school, the meeting turned to more serious matters. The menu of the Great Feast. Every one of the teachers was sick to the back teeth of pumpkin juice, and since there was a pumpkin famine due to some kind of strange fungal thing possibly, although no one would say it out loud, due to aforementioned dungeon flooding night shirt incident, the teachers needed to find a new and unusual beverage to give to the students. 

The first years were hardly going to be satisfied with coming to a magical school and being offered Robinson's Fruit and Barley. Without thinking, Snape offered up a suggestion "What about pomegranate juice?" Behind Dumbledore's chair, the lupine form of Remus began to convulse with what presumably would have been laughter if dogs could laugh, but came out rather more threateningly than he intended. 

Werewolves weren't built for giggles, and so the spasming form on the floor caused everyone but Snape to move 6 feet down the Great Table away from the writhing body that was Remus Lupin. 

"Severus, if you value your life, move away, the Wolfbane potion obviously isn't working" hissed Professor Vector. This of course was the worst thing to say to Snape, on several critical levels. First and foremost, never criticise a man's potion making ability. It's like suggesting he needs to ask for directions. Secondly, Sirius reliably informed him (//Oh great, I'm listening to the voices in my head rather than the council of my fellow professors// thought Snape wildly) that Remus was laughing because of the pomegranate thing that was a private joke between Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. If Moony lost control for much longer the beast would really take control and he was between the staff and the only door. Oh, and thirdly, right at this point, Severus didn't really value his life all that highly; he had always felt distinctly cheap, something which the Malfoy incident hadn't helped. 

This in mind, Severus walked calmly over to Lupin and kicked him square in the tail. In a flash, Moony was on him, pinning him to the ground, hot saliva dripping onto his face, his hair and his exposed neck (easy now). A low growl filled the stunned silence. As quickly as he had pounced, Moony shook his head, and moved away, limping slightly.

Snape returned to the table, took out an exquisite black silk handkerchief and wiped the drool from his face. "Shall we continue ladies and gentlemen?" he gently enquired. Many of the teachers were obviously sizing him up for a padded room at St Mungo's but those who knew a little about werewolves and in particular the Wolfsbane potion realised that Snape had, at great risk to himself, saved their lives. 

From those faces he saw respect, with a healthy dose of admiration shining through on a few faces. Basking in the love, he took the initiative and steered the meeting through to close in record time, preventing Dumbledore's traditional questionably sane ramblings causing any real delays. "If you'll excuse me, Professors, I have rather a lot of work to do tomorrow, and it has been rather a long day, so I'll bid you all good night." With this Snape left the room (did we mention his lovely walk before? Oh, it was a lovely locomotive strategy) leaving a rather confused and very intrigued set of teachers behind him.

******************

It was a little know fact that Remus had always possessed the ability to transform to a werewolf at will and keep his mind – this did not bother him overly – it was the unlooked for and uncontrollable transformations that gave him cause to whinge a bit.  However, simply summoning a rotten enough mood – for which he kept a select set of memories, most involving day-time chat show hosts – was enough to allow him to drive himself into wolf form.  This had turned out to be a useful ability in the long run, allowing him to hold his current position as chief whip and enforcer of the Hogwarts faculty, a highly demanding role, especially at staff meetings.  Short of including Clare Short in the cabinet he really didn't see how they could be a more disagreeable lot.  

The normal instigator was Snape, in his usually bad tempered way – but now he was making constructive comments, showing guidance and leadership and worse still, making cracks about pomegranates.  Something was amiss.  

If Remus had had a pipe or a deerstalker he may have felt compelled to say that the game would soon be afoot (but they had been stolen with the tent), and if he had had a crooked staff he may have said that a shadow and a threat had been growing in his mind (but that had been borrowed without permission by Voldemort).  In fact, if he had had a lycra cat suit he may have said captain, there's and unidentified object coming up on sensors, but then he's always had too much fashion sense for that and werewolves try as hard as they can to avoid anything with the 'c' word in it, since it tended to drive them over the edge.  And if he had had green fluffy ears he may have said clouded the way of the ferret is.  But then Yoda never made any sense anyway.  But as he had none of these props – not even a shirt to have ripped from his very back – he contented himself with soliloquising.

"Hmmm" quoth he, "there is something mightily strange going on here.  I must go and have and in depth (but manly) talk with Snape about my emotions, and by communication we will solve all the ills of the situation."

Yeah really.  But then he was a man.  So he just grunted and headed in the direction of the dungeons.

*********************

Not without a certain trepidation, did Remus knock on the dungeon door.  He suspected that Snape would abuse him for coming to early to collect his potion and in general for being overly Gryffindor.  Imagine his surprise to find Snape pleasant – nay even pleased to see him – for although Snape thought he was going mad and allowing Sirius to deal with the distasteful situation as a form of distancing himself from it – we the reader know that in fact it was the joy of a formerly dead man meeting again his dear (and incredibly heterosexual) friend.

"Remus do come in"  //Grr.  Get him out of my lab.  He'll leave hairs all over the place.//  " Can I offer you a cup of tea?"  //Now you sound like Dumbledore.//

"Thank you …Severus" (an imperious flap of the wrist to indicate that this was acceptable)  "I came down to see how you were getting on.  You've seemed a little different lately."

//You let the dumb mutt call me by my first name!  Shame on you!  That's it, I'm calling in my control time because you and your squeamishness flooded the dungeons and caused at least 50 hapless Alan Rickman fans to go blind.//

Sirius hmphed for a bit, decided that in fact he would have said something silly anyway.  As yet Snape had not told anyone he was possessed, and Sirius didn't want to give himself away before he got to talk to Harry himself.  He had a feeling that Dumbledore would be a bit ruthless in throwing him out.

Which is why, a somewhat cunning smile spread across Snape's face.  After all we must remember that he is a diabolically cunning, scheming, manipulative, arrogant, self centred, sadistic social climbing bastard, and not a nice person at all or a harmless fruit.  But he has one hell of a walk.

"Yes.  I've been embroiled in a quite a strange relationship lately.  It's affecting everything – how I think of thing, how I speak, what I do, everything…"

"Really, Severus?  That's great.  It's always great to see people getting together.  So who's the lucky guy, anyone I know?"

"I am not gay.  Can you please get that into your head!" 

"Oh sorry, so whose the girl?"

"No, it's a guy.  I never said that this was about sex.  You have a filthy mind."

"So what happened?"

"We spent the first four days in bed – we were only interrupted by a summons from Voldie and his Death-Munchies."

"But I thought…."

"Well we were drinking and watching dvds, but nothing happened.  I swear. Well, I don't *think* anything happened, but were very drunk"

"So who's this great friend?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you.  I hardly believe it myself."

"Go on, I promise I won't laugh."

"No"

"Well will you answer questions?"

"Sure."

"What is his name?"  "Lupin. I've warned you.  Fine Arthur, King of the Britons."

"What is his quest?" "To find willing bodies and the Holy Grail."

"What is his favourite fruit?"  "Black – oh hang on, wasn't listening, thought you were following the script.  Pomegranates, I guess.  I think it comes from some kind of childhood in-joke."

"Dog or cat person?" "Dogs."

"House?"  "He used to be hopelessly Gryffindor – don't give me that look – he's learning my ways quickly."

"So with the joke thing, was it 'what's the difference between a Slytherin and a…"

"Pomegranate.  Yeah, already heard it."

"I was going to say 'flute'"

Severus frowned, then shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, one's a painfully stuck up arse, and you can finish the joke for yourself."

"Urgh.  Don't talk to me about being taken from behind.  That's nearly happened twice this week.  Arghhh! Why did I just tell you that?  Leave now, and never come back!"

"Oh please, don't start with that, I've no interest in your ring. (Snape moaned at the disgusting undertones of that).  I think I have some ideas now.  So long as you're alright."

"Just Dandy.  Now get lost."

Remus left with good grace, with the vague awareness that something was still going on, slightly mollified by Snape's bitter tones towards the end of their little tete-a-tete.  But now he had a feeling that he knew who, or at least what, was behind it all.  And then he groaned in a manly and still incredibly heterosexual way.  Some thoughts were just too much to handle.

References

The midgets come from Slytherin Rising Enemies of the Heir by JL Matthews, in the hilarious and utterly gratuitous chapter 18. It's painfully funny. Read it. Now. You don't *have* to read all the rest, but do; because then we'll feel better that we aren't alone in our tragic obsessions. If we don't get a life, neither should you. Nerf Herder is obviously a Star Wars thing and the voices crying out in pain Captain Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean. Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet Father Ted – I think the episode is called Kicking Bishop Brennon up the arse. If it isn't, then it's the episode where (surprise surprise) Bishop Brennon gets kicked up the arse. Star Wars again Sherlock Holmes Star Trek Lord of the Rings The labour government.  Oh hang on, they're not really a work of fiction, but the cold hard truth of reality. American Pie (kind of) Very Secret Diaries by Cassandra Claire These 'what's the difference between a Slytherin and a…' jokes come entirely from our own imaginations, but you should all feel free to add any that come to mind. 


	3. Chapter V

Chapter V, forming the third part

Werewolves traditionally didn't have much to occupy their time. They were almost unemployable and as such Remus thought he had pondered all of life's inpenetrables, how they got the covering on maltesers so smooth, where all those odd socks went (bloody house elves), and how many archaeologists carried guns, but this was a new one for him. He had of course thought about Sirius returning and possessing a body, but Snape wouldn't top anyone's bodies to possess list, despite having a down right sexy walk. Even as a heterosexual male wolf Lupin could appreciate this. 

No, Sirius would choose someone very blonde, very rich and very dirty. Malfoy, in fact. He also hoped that Sirius would come to him first, he'd gladly share his body with his beloved friend if only he would ask. He dismissed his suspicions as flights of fancy. Just because Severus appeared to know about pomegranates didn't mean anything, hell he could be shacked up with Peter Pettigrew. Now that was a thought that no one should dwell on, and it almost caused Remus to lose his breakfast all over the dungeon floors.

//Although// he thought to himself, //it might improve the smell down here. What exactly was Snape brewing to make the corridor smell so bad?// and then it hit him. The corridor had the aroma of rotting flesh. If any one should have recognised it sooner it was Lupin, but he was, to be fair, a pretty tame werewolf. (in both senses of the word. Fwahfwahfwah) His first thought had been that the Hufflepuff badger was around, but he remembered that Hagrid always scrubbed off the emotionally scarred creature in the holidays. It wasn't strictly part of Hagrid's job, since badgers are not traditionally magical, but there's only a certain amount of magical waste that you can 'help clean up' before some of it leaks in. The badger was now able to camouflage itself in a chameleon like fashion, but the teachers remained one step ahead in the magical powers thing, so cast infra red vision spells when they needed to find it. It actually helped them, since there was no chance Professor Sprout would find it accidentally.

But I digress. Remus focused his thoughts onto Kilroy and Trisha*  – separately was bad enough, but together they were more than enough to transform him into a wolf. Following his nose, he trotted through the castle. The smell had spread throughout since scurrying house elves, walking teachers and the sinuous gliding of Severus Snape (damn that man can walk) had disturbed the air currents. This made little difference to a wolf, and Remus was relatively sure that even if he was blindfolded with a spoon shoved up one nostril and a chilli inserted into his… ear he would still have been able to follow it. It led to the store rooms. House elves scuttled out of his way, they might have been bound to his service, but they weren't stupid enough to ask if he fancied a snack (well Dobby was, but he was off worshipping at his Harry Potter shrine, and there was Sappy, but that little elf was nowhere to be seen either). 

He leisurely returned his thoughts to less horrific avenues and where a wolf had been seconds before, there stood a man. He was aware that he was standing in a corridor rather near to Snape's office and he was naked. "Robes" he yelled, but several house elves had anticipated his orders and presented him with a rather tasteless but nevertheless functional (i.e. they covered everything he didn't want the world to see) set of purple robes. //Great. Now I look like an egg plant//.

The smell was overwhelming now. It invaded his mind, soaked his pores and chilled his blood. He longed for the taste of meat in his mouth, blood lust threatening to overwhelm him. "Nasalis bungupus" he cried, and the smell was gone. It muted the cry for hot, yielding flesh, but did not completely slake his lust. He slowly, with a feeling of entirely explainable dread opened the door.

*******

At first he could see nothing at all – just a vast sea of orange.  For a moment he was puzzled thinking that this was where they had imprisoned all the misguided Chudley Cannons fans once they came of age, rather than release them on society at large.  But then common sense kicked in and as none of them appeared to be singing (although it was possible he just couldn't hear them over their robes) or moving, or indeed breathing, he surmised that they were in fact pumpkins.  It's very easy to get a pumpkin and person mixed up – have you all missed the point of Halloween entirely?

This said, Remus was still somewhat confused, and not able to see how an expansive mass of pumpkins could generate that bad a smell.  Slowly as his eyes adapted and the orange glare was dimmed down a bit he began to make out the spaces between the pumpkins, which more often that not showed another pumpkin beneath, and occasionally even a patch of stone floor.  Which is why a furry foot sticking out at an odd angle looked quite as incongruous as it did.  Taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the worst, Remus moved in and rolled aside the covering pumpkins to reveal the somewhat flat body of a house elf.  The identity tag around its neck named it as Sappy.  

Now Remus, being too proud and lofty in his manner as to indulge in gossip and tittle-tattle had not yet heard the story of the dungeon flood, although the new tide-marks on some of the walls had given him pause for thought.   So he had no immediate thoughts as to why an elf should have seemingly tried to pull every bit of fur it possessed off its own body; whereas we the reader know it was because he had picked up some of the debris from the aforementioned plug hole and could not disentangle it from the mattes of his own fur.

And although we will never now know for sure, it seems that at some point during this violent expilation, some event occurred that caused it to lose the will to live the dreary life of servitude appointed to it.  We suspect it could have been the other elves banging on the door with an oddly shaped loofa and inquiring if Sappy wanted to have it back, but as I said we shall never know.  All that we do now know is that Sappy is no more, that his rotting carcass and the vile and infected hair of Severus had some how contrived to begin a plague on the Hogwart's pumpkins, the like of which shall never be seen in any age hence forth and had never been seen in any of the ages past.  We also now know the exact cross-sectional area of a house-elf, but that's probably beside the point.

Point? What point?  I hear you cry.  Well, you may be right, but remember who has the pomegranates in this relationship.

As Remus stood in said store room and contemplated what was to be done, and what could have driven a poor creature to such a grisly fate, two figures approached down a corridor and as they passed yelled "Remus, get out of that closet.  Hiding in there does you no good at all!"

And sharing a conspiratorial grin, Dumbledore and McGonagall passed on down the corridor to confront the potions master in what was sure to be another epic battle over Potter.  This time, they had decided, he can trash his own classroom.

******

However, you and I, gentle reader know that the Snape who trashed the staff room in 1991 was very different to the Snape we have come to know and well, let's leave it at that. For starters, he now had two houses (he had bought the little gite in France only six months ago) and both were cursed, but a course of antibiotics and a dab or two of calamine lotion from Sappy (RIP) had soon cleared that rather embarrassing problem up. That didn't mean he wasn't a grumpy twisted little bugger.

"Severus, can we have a word?" asked Albus.

Biting back the insouciance reply that had been partly the cause of the Malfoy incident (mental shudder) Snape replied in a calmer voice than he felt "Of course Albus, come in" 

//Oh no, they've found the elf.  Or the loofa.//. 

When he had calmed down enough to actually let them in he offered them a seat. The sadist in him (Severus) persuaded him that if they were going to take up his valuable 'what the hell do I tell Harry' pondering time they shouldn't be comfy at the same time. With this in mind he offered to them the detention chairs he ordered from a little shop on Knockturn Alley. The chairs were bewitched to prevent the occupant from staying longer than they were welcome and worked on a similar principle to the Dark Mark (which is where Snape got the idea from). The chair caused the occupant mild irritation, moving on to unpleasant boils and finally ruptured boils. 

Dumbledore looked up and got down to business with no preamble, "It's Harry", which shocked our potions master enough that he fell off his chair in an undignified heap. That the subject of this little talk was Harry could mean only one thing. They knew. 

"Yes?" they said with a strained voice "what has Mr Potter done this time?" 

//Please let him have done something idiotic before he's got back to school// _"Hey, leave him alone!" _//Oh so you want to be found out?// _"please let him have done something idiotic before he's got back to school."_

"We know that you don't usually take anyone with lower than an O in potions in your NEWTS classes, but quite frankly we want you to make an exception. The only magical career that Harry has any chance of being any good at is becoming an Auror, and if he doesn't, we feel there's only evil left as a viable alternative. And, since we all know he's the only one who can kill Voldie, we'd like a force for good." 

This said, the Professors looked hopefully at Snape who was grinning like a student who's been told that jobs are actually just an invention of grown ups to scare you into doing some work, and everyone really spends their lives writing random stories… 

"I'm sure that won't be a problem Albus, and if he needs extra tuition I'm sure I can find him a window"

"That's very kind of you Severus" said McGonagall suspiciously. "Are you sure??"

"Minerva, you've just gifted me with two more years worth of Potter. I can finish the orphan baiting course I began five years ago"   He sighed with relief. Not only was he a stunning actor, and Sirius was whooping with joy that he got to spend time with Harry, but he really could finish baiting the scruffy little orphan and his ridiculous friends. 

Harry Potter did nothing alone, wherever he went the pink-hoodied (at least her hair was black not blond) one and the ginger went with him. Then a solution to his current dilemma hit him.

 //Granger, I could kiss you if you weren't a student in my care, obsessed with that boat and a Gryffindor. The black hair is in your favour though//

Looking puzzled, but pleased that nothing had been broken, Dumbledore and McGonagall took their leave, holding their noses as they walked past the kitchen store rooms.

*******

Joy of joys. His first lesson was potions with the sixth years. He caught his reflection in the mirror and saw a genuine smile for the first time he could remember. Amazing what spending time with Gryffindors does for you. He quickly replaced it with his trademark scowl and swept up to the Great Hall. The students had arrived and the feast was about to begin.

********

"Pomegranate juice? Where's the pumpkin?"

"Honestly Ron, don't you read? There's been a pumpkin blight. There aren't any pumpkins left in the whole of the school. Who knows what they'll do for Halloween, maybe carved pomegranates"

"Hermione, you are so weird"

********

Potions was first thing on Mondays for Harry and co.  The select few Gryffindors that had made it to this gruelling stage and still had the fortitude to go on (Hermione, Harry, Padma and Dean) were still paired with the Slytherin class (being Malfoy, Parkinson and Zabini) for their potions lessons.  The one Hufflepuff that had achieved the necessary grades and had the desire to continue with potions newt, Hannah Abbot had also been put in this class.  All the Ravenclaws had achieved either an E or and O in their OWLs and so the majority of them had decided to continue with the subject, making this the most sensible division to be had.  It also, coincidentally, has the most comedic potential.

All this was made bearable to Harry only by the fact that he could still be an Auror. His vitriolic hate of Snape had not lessened, but he had learned a cold façade was easy to project. The first time Snape called the register, the emptiness in Harry's voice forced Sirius to stifle a sob.  It seemed Dumbledore had been right about the turning to the dark side potential resident in Harry.  Cohabiting with Sirius had led to Severus feeling genuinely fond of the little twerp, in a rather odd, definitely heterosexual but probably slightly unhealthy way. 

The lesson progressed with less explosions than Snape had come to expect from this class, but since this was the cream of the crop (and Harry who was being ably assisted by Hermione) it wasn't all that unusual.  However mix a Slytherin with a Gryffindor and leave to simmer for just short of two hours and there's bound to be an explosion at some point.  With the rest of the class having been proved to be somewhat intelligent, diligent and …did I mention intelligent, it should therefore be of no surprise to anyone that the initial spark came from Harry Potter.

On sampling of the potions, Harry's turned out to be someone thicker and more glutinous than those around him.  It was however the right colour, which counts for something, and shows I don't think he's a cretin.  However, everyone else had potions of a water-like consistency and there were some smirks coming from the Slytherins towards the Boy Who Lived to Botch Potions.  Which is not a wise thing to do when said boy has a temper, and short fuse, and ample supplies of green goo.  Go figure.

And if you can't, or just for the gratuitous pleasure of it, I'll tell you that ere the end of this slinging and slanging match Malfoy ended up with green streaks in his hair, which is as we all know what happens when you use too much peroxide on your hair, and gave a strangely fitting green and silvery-blond effect.  There was also some smeared down Harry's glasses, and a streak on Padma's leg that disappeared up her skirt.  Once again, don't ask, and then you won't have the urge to gouge your eyes out with spoons.  

Once the new and (improved?) hybrid Snape had figured out that he was supposed to be in charge and stopping this kind of thing happening, if nothing else, for the Hufflepuff's sake, he then proceeded to discover the power of his voice.  Deep and menacing, silky and sinister, quiet yet authoritative, very RP but venomous…Sorry got a bit carried away there.  We've already gone a bit about his walk.  Now we've established he can also talk.  Walk and talk.  Why don't we call him Ken and have done with it?

Anyway, once this transformation had come to pass, it was short work to quieten down the rabble and get things tidied up.  Isn't magic handy?  Once the students were all back in their seats, suitably chastened, he began the process of punishment.  Thinking longingly of the whips in his office….no, not going there.

"Mr Potter, see me after this class." He purred.  "Mr Malfoy, tell me, if I take away all of Gryffindor's points (there was a collective gasp) is there any chance they can win?"

"No sir, we've got a good lead."

"Very well then, 1000 points to Gryffindor."

A shocked silence accompanied this declaration.  Then there were quite a few "But…" moments. (Not that kind.)

Snape felt the urge to clarify, or rather Sirius egged him on to it.  "I like a challenge." 

Which was too much for many of the assembled students.  One and all they fainted, some falling forwards into their cauldrons and catching fire, and some falling backwards into the swirling mix of spilt ingredients.   Mayhem ensued, with flapping and flaming students rushing around and two unfortunate ones being transformed into a badger and a giant spoon.  (we suspect the badger was the Hufflepuff.)

Several quick extinguishing charms dealt with most of the carnage, but the badger escaped with alacrity, possibly something to do with the spoon poking it.  I know it's traditional to poke a badger with a big stick, but in some cases a giant spoon does just as well.  Knowing the alarming fate awaiting any loose badger and not wanting the student body to learn their dirty secret Snape chased the badger, but ended up locked in mortal combat with a giant spoon.

When he had finally cleared up the disaster area caused by his moment of flippancy (let that be a warning he thought, but it was already to late for us. Or me?) he returned to the classroom to discover that the remainder of his students had been stretchered to the hospital wing, or found a shred of independent thought, tidied up (again) and left.  Only Harry Potter was tarrying, perched on the edge of his desk.

"What did you want?"  Harry demanded with a total lack of respect. 

Snape drew a breath and searched for the words.  Then he answered quietly "I just wanted to tell you I was sorry about Black. I may not have liked the man, but his heart was in the right place" 

This shot from left field stunned Harry enough that his barely restrained anger exploded "HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME ABOUT SIRIUS! HE DIED BECAUSE OF YOU. YOU DIDN'T LISTEN WHEN I TOLD YOU WHAT I SAW. YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED HIM" and in a quieter voice "You could have stopped me"

"Harry, believe me, I did everything I could. You think you're the only one haunted by that night? The only one who dreams it over and over again replaying my actions to see what I could have done differently? I am so sorry." 

As he said the words Sirius placed in his mouth, Severus found himself meaning it. Which made Harry's rejection all the more painful.

"You're sick. You always hated him and you always hated me. You made the last year of his life miserable, and even if you mean it, you can never turn back time. I don't want to know. I'm in this class because I have to be. Not because I want to."

With that, Harry stormed out of the door, his mind a flurry of emotions.

*******

Snape sat quietly in his office for a while after Harry had left.  The thought that if he had flounced any more on his way out, his head would have fallen off (and wasn't flouncing a girl-thing anyway) had been reasonably quickly suppressed.  Both Severus and Sirius had been deeply affected by Harry's response – Sirius was naturally distraught, but Severus from his more detached standpoint could see that Harry was rapidly coming apart at the seams.  The succession of death, destruction and otherwise over-dramatised events rarely seen outside a Hollywood script seemed to be getting him down.

*Unlike a true hero who would have been able to grin and bear it, according to Hollywood – oh, hang on a minute, so it's Muggles to blame for Harry's inability to ask for help – that figures*

//Some people never change.//

Rather than being able to believe in himself and his abilities, he was beginning to withdraw and not care.  From an entirely logical point of view Harry needed something – or someone – to guide him back on to the path that the fridge-magnet plagiariser Dumbledore had determined he should walk.

Unfortunately all this sage, if somewhat cynical (the coffee-revel loving half, I assure you) reasoning was being cobbled together with Sirius' somewhat gung-ho perspective on who should be that guide (i.e. Sirius himself, despite the whole being dead problem and sharing the body of someone Harry hated thing) and looked like resulting in a mad time-travelling plan to save Sirius' body, because there was nothing in this world or the next that could save his mind…  Severus was putting up a valiant defence against all this hare-brained scheming, right up to the moment when he was well and truly distracted.

Hence you can blame the said distraction and interrupter for all of the coming-plot line.  Not us, oh no, never us.  So this is how it went:

Enter stage left, Draco, through the potion classroom door, just strolling in with stereotyped Malfoy arrogance.  Someone should really teach them manners, they'll never graduate from side-kick to maniacal tyrants with a view to ruling the world and all inhabitants to ruler of aforementioned world and hapless inhabitants without learning some social skills.  Charm is an essential, if underrated, factor in world domination.  As are inexhaustible supplies of revels, chocolate variety or midget-staffed, take your pick.

But I digress.  Well, what's new?

So, Draco had just strolled into the potions classroom and it was obvious to Severus that he had an agenda.  He was here because he wanted something.  The sly look on his face said it all – just like his father when he had wanted to know how to program the VCR.  Severus hoped it was going to be of that variety of request rather than the 'I've twiddled your knobs, so how about you do mine' kind.

//Hey// snapped Sirius.  //I never said that.//

*Yeah but you thought it.  I heard you.*

"Mr Malfoy, would you care to tell me why you are here rather than just smirking like an idiot."

//Sorry, couldn't resist adding that in.  Malfoy baiting is such fun.  They should make it a licensed sport.//

"Well, sir,"  Malfoy drawled, putting an unpleasant emphasis on the sir bit, "I find that I have a bit of a problem and I was wondering if I could get you to help me deal with it."

Both Severus and Sirius agreed at this point that simply raising an eyebrow would suffice as a response to this somewhat ambiguous statement.

Malfoy too agreed, it seemed, as he continued,  "You recall that when I walked in on you and my father at an…err…inopportune moment, I asked my father whether he had asked you about a potions book?"

A somewhat embarrassed nod greeted this.  "Well the book I was referring to was a somewhat hard to find one.  One containing all the answers to the end of year exam questions for potions."

A heavy silence hung in the air.

"I beg your pardon, Mr Malfoy.  It appears you just asked me to help you cheat."

"Yes, it appears I did.  My father explained that you little….ménage….was the result of a downturn in the fortunes of the Snape family.  The stock market is a tricky investment at the best of times.  Fortunately gold never looses its value, and gold is something the Malfoy family has plenty of."

"You are being somewhat…indiscrete, Mr Malfoy," Snape replied, trying to process the fact that Draco seemed to believe that he was some kind of common prostitute in enough need of money too…..eugh!  He resisted the urge to cast another teeth-cleaning spell.

"I'm not the only one who's been so, sir."  The smirk had reappeared full force.

Snape pause, for dramatic effect only, as he knew exactly what he was going to say, and also to remind Sirius that this was all his fault.

"Are you suggesting that I sacrifice my academic principle for money, Mr Malfoy?"

"Well, yes.  You've already sacrificed your personal ones for it – although that would have been obvious to anyone who took a good look at you.  And this way is far easier…much less sweaty."

He was going to murder the little….right here, he didn't care, but Draco it seemed was not done yet, "And I'd hate for Dumbledore and the rest of the staff to hear what you thought about the pay around here."

He let the threat hang.  Severus tried not to smirk himself, and attempted to look pained as he waited and then asked,

"How much are you offering?"

"50 Galleons."

"Nothing less than 150."

"100."

"Okay."

Draco looked momentarily puzzled at the easy acquiescence, but did not figure out that he had been had.  Like the majority of the people in this story, he wasn't all that bright.  Huh?  What do you mean I've got a superiority complex.  "I'll give them to you when they are written, you can pay up half now, half then."

Dumping his 50 galleons on the table, Draco left, feeling pretty good about himself.

//I can't believe it.  You just sold out to him.//

*No, I played him.  I'll give him the answers to last year's exam.*

//But…surely…//

*That the question were from the forthcoming exam was not specified in the terms of our agreement.  And anyway, he's blackmailing me, who's he going to complain to?*

//But he might tell everyone about us and Lucius!//

*But by then he'll have failed potions and it'll just be sour grapes.  And I'll have a 100 galleons worth to spend on DVDs, hide in France and ride out the storm with.*

//That's so very…Slytherin.//

*You say it like it's a bad thing.*

*****

"We can't bear to see him like that. Want to do it tonight?" asked Sirius, suddenly formulating a brilliant and cunning plan to improve everyone's lives immensely.  Which shows our faith in him was entirely justified.  In the end, blood will out.

//That's not something I ever thought I'd hear from you Sirius// Severus smirked. (A/N It shows what spending an inordinate amount of time with a Gryffindor will do to you. They might be brave and all that, but they are filthy minded. Not as explicitly filthy as Slytherins, but nonetheless, they make valuable smut assistance. Would you believe our pet Gryffindor neighbour claims some credit for the pomegranate joke?)

********

"One thousand eight hundred and ninety seven turns, one thousand eight hundred and ninety eight turns, one thousand eight hundred and ninety nine turns, one thousand nine hundred turns!"

They felt a slightly uncomfortable pulling sensation (nothing as horrible as the Malfoy incident mind) and then they found themselves in the basement of Grimauld Place .  Which was when they hit a flaw. When should they interfere? They decided to wait until later to do something. i.e. they put off deciding until a later date. A typical Slytherin responsibility avoidance strategy. The Gryffindor may well be beyond redemption.

********

The Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries. You all know when. Let's get to the action. We're up to the arrival of Dumbledore…

Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her.

'Come on, you can do better than that!' he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.

The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore, too, turned to the dais.

It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards towards the veil and disappeared.

Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his god-father's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell. The veil fluttered for a moment, as though in a high wind, then fell back into place. There was a flash of light, but Sirius did not reappear.

'SIRIUS!' Harry yelled. 'SIRIUS!'

'There's nothing you can do, Harry…nothing…he's gone'

********

"Where the hell are they?  They're not very good heroes.  Even Potter does marginally better." I hear you cry. Fear not dear hearts, all will become clear(er)

********

To Sirius, watching himself get cursed was an odd feeling. Doing so from behind the silvery haze of an invisibility cloak was even worse. 

As he (I?) fell, Snape's fingers crossed, (not legs, so there's still hope for all you slashers) and they used the impeccable hand to eye coordination that allowed Snape's graceful posture to catch the falling body, pull it under the cloak and begin to deal with Bellatrix's curse. 

Now, obviously it wasn't a killing curse (red light not green), but that doesn't mean Sirius couldn't die from it. Luckily, Snape knew a thing or two about potions, and within a few seconds Sirius was while not exactly on top of the world, at least not going to die on the dais. As he leant forward over the prone body of his patient, Snape realised there was something he needed to do. 

He lowered his head closer to Sirius and whispered the final words of a dispossession spell he'd (conveniently) somehow forgotten until this moment that he knew. Sirius felt himself flung into his own body and a flash of light strong enough to overcome the wards woven into the invisibility cloak accompanied his into-body experience. He felt his eyes snap open and looked into the deep, dark eyes he'd come to know so well. He reached up a hand and gently caressed the cheek of Severus Snape, wiping away the salty tears falling onto his face. He realised that he too was crying, and it wasn't entirely because he was a big wuss and had been hexed good and proper. The intimate connection that they had shared ever since he had entered Severus for the first time was gone, and they both felt it.  For a moment they stared at one another, their eyes locked.  Then Severus licked his suddenly dry lips and leaned down to Sirius.

To whisper in his ear.  "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Ummm…" replied Sirius, again now whole and basically in control of his now never-dead body, "If you're thing 'who's afraid of the napkins of death?' then yes."

"Right" replied Severus.  "I know that painkiller I gave you was pretty strong, but trust a Gryffindor to ruin a sensitive moment.  Those damn sadistic authors almost had us there.  On seconds thoughts, nice work!"

Sirius replied somewhat dreamily, "Yeah, but the badgers had it coming."  Then he paused.  "I can hear banging upstairs…let me rephrase…thudding.  Everyone seems to have left.  Can you… take me….home now?"

His words were disjointed and his pupils dilated (that'd be the opiates) but we know he meant it that way.  It was lucky Severus said no.

Instead, he spirited him away to the gite in the south of France, which may or may not have love-nest potential.  It certainly has the ability to inspire and embarrassing rash.

Once there, they temporarily passed out on the bed and slept.  However, for dramatic purposes, it wasn't so temporarily and the strain had caught up with them and they slept for two weeks.

Don't scoff.  I'm a student remember.  This has been done.

* Chat show host of inane daytime TV.  No offence.

References

POTC Star Wars Very secret diaries still by Cassandra Claire We took rather a chunk of the end from Order of the Phoenix. If you didn't notice – FOR SHAME! Monty Python and the Holy Grail SG-1 


	4. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV, this being the chapter that comes fourth.******

It had been nearly two heart-wrenching weeks since his godfather died and Harry still couldn't sleep. The second he closed his eyes he had to relive one of the most painful times in his life. Without Sirius, Harry had no one. He knew that the Weasleys loved him like a son, and that the Order of the Phoenix would never abandon him, but it wasn't the same. Even with Sirius on the run, Cedric dead and Voldemort returned, Harry had always held a secret desire that he would one day wake up to a Voldie free world and a new life with his godfather. 

That would never happen now, and stomach twisting at the thought, Harry focused his mind, his pain and all his hatred onto the man he held responsible – Severus Snape. Snape was Harry's potions master at school and had always treated Harry badly (that he treated everyone except the Slytherin's badly didn't occur to Harry at this point). As the adage went, like father like son, and Harry was proof of that. Snape had hated James Potter at school, and Harry was an unpleasant reminder to the potions master of his less than happy school days.

Harry never wanted anything to do with Snape again, unfortunately, since he was staying at the headquarters of the Order and Snape was a member, this wasn't very likely, so Harry had to content himself with ignoring the man, and refusing to drink a dreamless sleep potion, even with Mrs Weasley fretting anxiously in the background. 

********

He dressed and wandered downstairs, hoping to eat alone only to find Remus Lupin and Molly Weasley in the kitchen. They looked as though they weren't sleeping all that well either, and Remus in particular had the air of a broken man. Neither one of the wizards patronised the other with even half a smile when even the least observant troll would realise what it was already costing the Gryffindors not to burst into tears.

*******

The fire burst into flames and immediately, Molly and Remus were in front of Harry, wands raised and ready for trouble. What they weren't ready for was the sight that met them. A black haired man dressed in severe black robes smiled tiredly at them and grinned weakly at the look on their faces and offered a rather lame "Molly, Lupin, Mr Potter".

"What the hell is going on?" asked Remus warily "How did you…"

"Well, Moony old friend, let's just say that pomegranates had a lot to do with it." The werewolf looked at Molly and lowered his wand, "It's really him Molly!"

The three Gryffindors stared, too stunned for words for what seemed an age, then Harry flung himself sobbing into his godfather's arms.

"But…How…What…." Stuttered Harry in his normal dazed and confused state.  "where have you been for the last two weeks?"

"It's very hard to explain now, not least because if I did you would have the urge to poke your eyes with a spoon and burn your underwear.  Trust me when I say that there are some questions best left unanswered.  But you know if you ever needed me I would be just the other end of our secret mirror."

Pressed to Sirius chest, the voluminous robes muffled something that sounded rather like "Oh crap"

However for once Harry's innate curiosity was stifled, which is more that I can say for you dear reader, if you're still here.  If you're being force to read it by a friend who thinks it insanely funny, you are not alone.  Our pert Gryffindor neighbour agrees with you, and to be honest you have my sympathy as well.  I'm blaming all on my better half.  (The One who hates coffee revel – enough said.)

*******

Explanations could wait. Harry had never been so exquisitely happy in all his life, and for Sirius, there was a whole lot of love in the room. Even Molly, once she got over her surprise forgot their differences and hugged him as fiercely as she had ever hugged Harry, whispering "it's so good to see you love." 

Sirius insisted that his return should be a surprise to all the members of the Order that weren't at headquarters (with the exception of Mad-eye who was a little too unpredictable, but all too happy to pull the wool over the eyes of the others). Tonks, being the clumsiest witch in the Order, fell down the stairs and into the street when her cousin opened the door to let her in after her discharge from hospital. Unfortunately for her, this meant that she had to go straight back to St Mungo's with two broken legs and a concussion. She dismissed her cousin's return as a hopeful delusion, so when she knocked on the door after being discharged again, the shock of seeing her cousin alive caused her to fall AGAIN. Luckily for her and for us, since this could get pretty circular, Remus was able to catch her and prevent any more damage being done.

Everyone was pretty shocked.

*********

The look on Dumbledore's face was priceless, but his reaction time was remarkable. This meant that Sirius was subjected to as many Dark Arts tests as Dumbledore could think of, which was, fairly obviously, a lot. Sirius began in a cooperative manner but, as the hours dragged on he began to get grumpy. Finally, Dumbledore announced his last test – the Sorting Hat. As soon as it was comfortably seated on his head the hat confirmed aloud "ah, Sirius Black, I certainly remember you." He continued internally "I had rather an easy time sorting you, but you seem to have got rather Slytherin since we last met. That reminds me of a joke, what's the difference between a Slytherin and the Hufflepuff badger?" "_Heard it.__ Now, can I get back to the rest of my life?"_

*******

The last member of the Order to arrive was, to us at least, the most important. Nobody else really gave a damn. 

Well, not many people. As the front door opened, Sirius leapt up off the floor, ran to the passage and was restrained from shouting "Multipass!" by the shock of Remus grabbing him (from behind of course) in order to restrain him from what he thought was an act of violence.

"Oh, bugger off you silly twerp" said Sirius, and then walked towards Severus.

They had, of course, realised that they had a slight dilemma in their new-found friendship.  Namely that no-one remembered the lead up to it and if they greeted each other in too friendly a manner, everyone would assume they were gay, desperate and shagging like rabbits.  No-one would understand their witty, mature and incredibly heterosexual repartee and companionship.

Or the two weeks seclusion in France.  In one bed. 

However let us not forget how incredibly Slytherin Sirius has become (what's the only way to make a hot Gryffindor hotter – turn him into a Slytherin of course).  So, after approaching Severus, watched with bated breath by all, he held out his hand, and said:

"Well now we've both had near death experiences, I finally realise that life's too short and that there are many people more deserving of my taunting, namely Hufflepuffs and people with phobias of spoons and badgers…and then there's always Malfoy.  I propose we tell a hugely derogative joke about the other person to get it out of our systems, and carry on civilly."

Snape nodded and indicated that Black should go first.

"Okay, what's the difference between a Slytherin and an Independence-day alien?

No?  well one's an ugly, slimy, devious, evil monster intent on taking over the world and the other's a character from a film staring Will Smith."

There was, once again a collective gasp.  However Snape merely replied, "You've spent the last month thinking that one up haven't you?  So, what the difference between a Gryffindor and a quorn fillet?  Well one's got no taste, and the other one I believe is mycoprotien, which is incidentally a kind of pumpkin fungus."

(Yes, we know it's from bacteria)

At this they looked another as if seeing each other for the first time, and then shared an incredibly blokey and heterosexual hug.  When they broke free it appeared everyone had fainted and Mrs Black was screaming about perverts.  This time we think the stray badger was Dumbledore.

The wizards turned and as one voice cast "Parley Francais" on the portrait of Mrs Black, which left the portrait only able to speak in the very limited French she knew. Sirius's mother quickly shut up out of embarrassment at her own lack of learning and a more generalised dislike of the French. 

The easy camaraderie between the old enemies was very confusing to everyone present, or it could have just been oxygen deprivation to their brains.  Remus eventually cornered Sirius and asked him were he had been for the last two weeks and how he and Snape came to be on such friendly terms. The answer he got wasn't exactly helpful.

"Well, Moony, there's only so much time you can spend sharing bodies with a man before you start to like him. Besides, he has the comfiest bed this side of heaven."

"WHAT?!" yelled Remus, experiencing as strange sense of déjà vu (not a glitch in the matrix), and a desire to check the pumpkin store."

"Don't ask Moony, you don't want to know"

And that, dear reader was the straightest answer anyone ever got.

The End, kind of.

References:

The Matrix, obviously. 


	5. Chapter III

**Chapter** **3,** **this** **being** **the** **final** **chapter** **and** **our** **defence**

Having established our credentials as a trashy writer, we'd like to take a few minutes to explain why some things in this fic are the way they are. Our pitiful attempt to address the questions we'd like answered if we didn't already know the answers goes something like this:

**For a Harry Potter fic, there isn't very much of the bespectacled one is there?**

No. Cos let's face it; he's a bit of a twerp. We aren't saying that he won't get better, and most people are frankly irritating at that age, but right now the adults tend to steal the show.

Honestly, if you were given every character, you wouldn't pick Harry as the saviour of the Wizarding world.  Imagine the conversation if you will:

"What, you mean it's the pale speccy one who's rubbish at everything except DADA (which might offer a hint) and Quidditch? Are you sure it's not a Weasley or that Granger girl?" 

Maybe it's my inner Snape talking, but all of that is beside the point. Harry has quite enough adventures without our help.  Anyway, he is in it, and we do kinda like him. We gave him a happy ending didn't we?

**Why Sirius and Severus?**

Well, quite frankly, we chose the two characters we like the most, and who have the most potential. (Remus and Lucius obviously coming next on the list). We don't have black hair, but the Black Hair Society allows us honorary membership.

**What's with the walking thing?**

We don't try to pretend that Snape's greasy mane is silky, or his big hooked conk is simply aquiline. The guy has to have something going for him. Besides, he does have a hot walk. Shame about the rest of him really.

**And the pomegranates?**

In the words of Sirius "Don't ask"

**Did Sappy have to die?**

Yes.  This is shown by the fact that even though we turned back time and undid the events that lead to his death, he still turned up on exactly the same day, after having been flattened by a hoard of Chudley Cannon fans hearing that Harry might consider playing for them.  Which shows you that some things cannot be avoided in this life, or even in Sappy's death.  Essays would be one of these thing, but then what do you think the point of all this was?

**Why so many innuendoes?**

Because we can.  And because our friends avoid us like the Huffelpuff badger before its bath and we need an outlet.

**Don't you have better things to do with your time?**

Hell no. Like we said – students

**Back to more Sirius questions…**** (Pardon the pun) How can it have been 1991 when Harry started school if Sirius and Severus have watched Charlie's Angels 2: Full Throttle which didn't come out until 2003, and Harry is about to begin his sixth year?**

Well, I did wonder this myself, but luckily for our plot integrity, inspiration came to me whilst I was *shock horror* working and I have a mildly plausible suggestion. Two in fact.

Time turners were not in fact regulated due to causality and all that gubbins about killing your future self, since anything that happens in the past has already happened. It was actually a measure to try and cut down on pirating films. Enterprising and slightly morally dubious business wizards (Slytherins of course) used time turners to take films back in time and for a small fee made them available to other wizards before the muggles got at them They were wizards, and as such can do whatever they like without threatening the integrity of the plot too much Or Harry is a dunce and has to resit several years. As previously mentioned, Ron and Mione can't function without the Golden Boy so dropped down with him. Oh, that's three reasons. The anal retentive would like to point out that we dated this by Nearly Headless Nick's Death day, which as any really sad people (us included) will know, was 1492. thus his 500th death day was 1992, and Potter and co attend this in the second book instead of going to the Halloween extravaganza. Maybe they were sick of pumpkin juice too. Yes, we know we can't count. Surely the chapter titles gave it away 

**So if time turners *are* regulated, how come Snape doesn't get in trouble?**

With no way to avoid the fact Voldie is back, the Ministry have more important things going on. Percy Weasley for example needs to figure out how to repair all the bridges he burnt in the past year

**What was with the Malfoy incident?**

To be honest, we wanted to get Lucius into the picture and remind everyone that Snape is a Death Eater (or pretending to be) at this point. And of course, blondes have more fun.

**And the scenes in Snape's bathroom?******

Maybe we're just sick. Did that ever cross your mind? Honestly, if you possessed the body of Severus, wouldn't you have an issue with the trouser Snape? 

**So none of that stuff happened then?**

It all happened, but only S and S remember. This isn't the same as it not happening. Although, you will be pleased to know that the end of the story means that poor old Sappy isn't dead after all, and pumpkin juice can be enjoyed by all. Except Sappy, who we are sad to report was smothered by pumpkins as the incredible bumper harvest burst through the store room doors and into the kitchen. So he didn't make it. Fifty Alan Rickman groupies also had their sight restored, and there was great rejoicing until Severus announced that, thinking about the time he'd spent in bed with Sirius, he probably was gay, and many of them poked out their own eyes with spoons.

Hang on a minute… that's the second time Sappy has died in this chapter. He was crushed by Chudley Cannon fans, so how can he be crushed by pumpkins too?

Well, here are several alternatives. Feel free to make up your own mind

We couldn't be arsed with any more proof reading. 15,000 words is a lot to check for mistakes, especially when you wrote it. We were too busy drawing stupid monkey graphs to proof read it Alternatively, as previously discussed, it is very hard to tell the difference between Chudley Cannon fans and pumpkins. Eye witness reports to our good selves (Dobby) are unreliable at best. There is more than one house elf called Sappy. House elves have been unable to sexually reproduce for almost a thousand years. All those hormones made the elves less subservient, and made some evil wizards feel inadequate (nudge nudge). As such, cloning is the only way to avoid the unfortunate ageing process and also any 'accidental' beheadings of insolent creatures by their moral superiors. Any way, problems with the cloning process (they left Dobby in charge) led to a reactor breech and multiple Sappys, who both died in tragic circumstances. (*Reference SG-1) 

Okay done with all that now, back to frivolity.

**Why does Hermione have black hair?**

Because since we saw the trailer with Hermione in a pink hoodie with realised that she was a miniature of our pet Gryffindor neighbour.  Also, as she was nearly sorted into Ravenclaw she has more taste than say, Ron, and knows that black is the new…well black.  She also wears green tights.

**What's with all the difference between a Slytherin and a….jokes.**

Firstly let me say, the one about the badger ends and ones a nasty little arse wipe…go figure.  As to the jokes, well they're just compulsive.  And we're obsessive.  Really.

**Why do we have such a go at badgers?**

Well of all the things to wipe you privates on, what would you choose out of a lion, a badger, a snake and an eagle?  And badgers burrow.

**Have you ever seen a doctor?**

Plenty, 50% of us is training to be one.  The other 50% lives with them, and thinks she has escaped.  Mwhahahahahaha.

**Who hates the coffee flavoured revels?**

Well obviously not the wannabe-doctor as if you don't like caffeine…well it's hopeless.  The arts student has yet to see a morning.  (lies, damned lies.  Or was that statistics? Probably both.)

**What's with the chapter numbers?**

Well aside from the obvious genuflection to Monty Python, it seemed like a good idea at the time.  Rest assured we got just as confused as you probably did by the end.


End file.
